"Sleeper Agent"

'Chapter Thirty-Five'

Dib didn't have time to react as the Irken stumbled off him, staggering quickly to the bathroom and disappearing from his sight(though from that range Dib couldn't really make out much of anything anyway, not without his glasses).

His brow furrowed as he stared off in the direction of the bathroom, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed, "Zim?" He called out tentatively, unsure what the hell just happened.

One minute there was rubbing bodies, needy sounds, and intoxicating scents – the next there was a biting chill on his skin and the penetrating silence that spoke louder than words.

Zim had rejected him.

Dib tried to ignore the painful vice that had gripped his heart, hating himself for somehow screwing this moment all up. What did he do? He thought the Irken had been enjoying him, enjoying this – what could it be?

Maybe he was just stupid to keep asking for what the alien obviously wouldn't give.

Maybe he was just the problem.

He ran a hand through his hair, taming his thoughts as he tugged hard at the locks. He whined in the back of his throat, trying to force aside his petty feelings and focus instead on the alien he obviously offended somehow.

Dib pushed himself away from the mattress, starting across the room on weak legs, reaching out blindly as he attached himself to the wall and guided himself to the bathroom, "Zim? It's—I didn't—" Dib didn't know what to say, what Zim expected him to say. Instead he just shook his head, letting out a shaky breath, "Zim?" He stepped closer to the room, "Are you even listening? Say something." He called into the illuminated room, finally breaching the threshold as he pushed the door aside.

And that was as far as he got into the bathroom.

Dib's fingertips were barely allowed to press on the door when it abruptly swung open, and then the human suddenly found himself on his back, on the cold floor. With a ridged, serpentine tongue down his throat, and hands clawing at him desperately.

Zim had finally lost it.

The few moments in the bathroom had done nothing to soothe the burning fire that consumed his body, but more so his mind. He'd placed his head against the cool tiles but that did nothing to help him; all he managed was to claw at the wall, panting, and the tug-of-war inside of him had worn to the barest thread of the tiniest string of lingering resistance left. Hearing Dib call for him was enough to shred the remains.

He couldn't—WOULDN'T—take it anymore, by Tallest and Irk and the Massive. No. More.

…Screw all stupid, weak, icky lurv feelings….

Hands roamed urgently down Dib's shoulders and over the lithe planes of his chest, as if starving for the sensation of human skin. Zim didn't separate from Dib for a moment, never looking for his expression—just kissing him, grabbing him, conquering him. He attacked the human with a neediness that was both Zim and not Zim—full of his greed, but also apparent in a weakness that the Irken would never want to show. But he couldn't halt himself.

He couldn't, for once, begin to care. He moaned, tasting Dib, and that was as far as his addled brain could care to think.

All he saw was a blur of red and green before he had been pounced – falling flat on his back on the hard tiled floor; Dib's strangled yelp being inhaled by Zim as the Irken crushed their lips together.

His hands found home on Zim's shoulders, having a mind to push the alien away; but as that talented tongue continued to assault his mouth, Zim's flavor coating his lips, Dib quickly fell victim to sensation. He drew his hands down the alien's back, his eyes fluttering shut as he pulled Zim closer, fingers gripping at chartreuse skin.

He groaned into the kiss as naked claws raked across his flesh, causing his body to arch away from the cool tiles and up into Zim's heated frame. His legs swept up, wrapping around Zim's hips, keeping the Irken flush against him.

Dib didn't need to think; didn't care to figure out why Zim had ran off only to attack him now. It didn't matter. He could feel Zim's need; in the way his body rubbed against his, how his talons roamed over every bit of his skin, how desperately he kissed him as if trying to devour his very essence.

He didn't need words to understand what Zim wanted, he was more than willing to give the Irken everything he had.

Zim felt the human's groan against his lips. If his thought were coherent, the alien might have been smug—judging by Dib's approving vocals, he'd finally mastered the strange lip-squishing ritual that earth-stinks seemed so fond of. He would smirk and brag to Dib about how he was superior in all that he did and even a silly display of affection was no challenge for his amazing abilities. But Zim's thought were not cohesive at all and the idea barely registered.

Instead he heard the groan and felt heat pool in his body—in his cheeks, in his spooch—and victorious pleasure jolted his mind. That submissive noise fueled him onward. It left him hungry for more of those delectable sounds.

The child's groans tasted so good on his tongue.

Zim pulled back eventually with reluctance, needing to breathe in more than just the sounds coming out of Dib's mouth. He could feel Dib's legs around his waist and the close locking of their hips—gasping when their needs brushed; the two of them were already past the point of no return. Without pause he drew his lips down the boy's jaw instead, nipping and sucking, letting his worm-like tongue slip out occasionally to caress the damage he left in his wake down Dib's pale throat.

Dib tilted his head back as he felt Zim's teeth, tongue and lips on his neck, "Mmm…" He nearly purred at the attentions the Irken was giving him, "Zimm~" His nails ran up the Irken's spine, a hand resting on the back of Zim's head trying to keep the alien pressed into his neck.

His amber eyes were heavy-lidded as he gazed up at the bathroom ceiling, his kiss-swollen lips parted as he tried to catch his breath; little keening sounds emitting whenever Zim happened to press up a little harder against him, unconsciously jerking his hips up into the invader's to create a better friction.

"Ahnn…" Dib's fingers latched onto one of Zim's antennae, a bit more roughly than intended when Zim had nipped his neck harder than before; causing Dib's face to instantly flush and his body to bow up against the alien's.

Zim chirped, tensing at the sudden, forceful handling of his feeler. Pain and sensation merged in a mind-numbing wave along his nerves and the Irken found himself reflexively nuzzling along the bite marks he'd just created, in what could almost be an affectionate gesture. But this was Zim, and Zim did not display weak things like affection… at least not when he was thinking clearly.

Burying his face against the crook of Dib's neck, he swept his hands along the human's battered torso, clawing the body as close to his as physically possible. It was like roaming his hands over maps of the universe, and exploring the worlds he claimed as his own—manipulating every spot and testing their loyalty, that they were still the property of Zim. Dib's shivers and whimpers and undulations marked each league of his conquest.

His one hand dipped lower, slipping between their bodies as Zim traced his claws along the base of Dib's length. Green fingers wrapped around the rock-hard member and slid down, letting his talons leave shallow scratches along Dib's need. The control he wielded in that moment was monumental, but Zim was in too much of a daze to truly appreciate it, unconsciously nibbling around Dib's collarbone.

Dib gasped when Zim's claws had wrapped around him, his hands splaying across the Irken's back, his nails biting in as he tried to find purchase in the jade flesh. The pain of the scratches was nothing compared to the rush of pleasure that swept through Dib's veins. "Nnn…" Dib bit his lip, trying to keep himself from just losing it; his hips jerking up into Zim's hand in an attempt to get more of that wonderful touch.

His ankles had locked together around the alien; hoisting his lower half just slightly into the air. Dib moaned as he felt Zim's need press against him, unconsciously pressing himself further against it in an attempt to force Zim to continue.

"Zim…" Dib squirmed beneath the Irken, trying his hardest to start something more – needing more than just touches, and bites, "Please…~"

The breathy groan from Zim was answer enough to that plea.

He cocked his head slightly, gazing at the human's head. Surrender: it was written so plain on the other's face. In a rivalry where they could not bear to show the other weakness, the tangible submission was nothing short of thrilling, and Zim felt a grin spread out across his lips. Puny human, he acted so strong and unwavering… but look at how easily he was to command, with a few simple strokes….

His hand pumped faster, matching the frantic beats of Zim's heart. Yes, plead for Zim, give Zim everything, all that Zim shouldn't want. But the thought only spurned Zim further—why should he be restricted? Uncertainty and logic were tossed out the airlock in a rush of desire. He was ZIM, he could have anything he wanted, anything at all! Not even he himself could hamper the demands running through his veins, and oh, did they demand….

He hummed in approval, as his opposite hand slid roughly down Dib's back to meet pale hips—his thumb stroking along the jutting of the human's pelvic bone. The hand held Dib steady as he pushed himself against Dib's opening, just enough to barely breach the muscle, only to tease. All the while his lips trailed back up to Dib's face, and their eyes were allowed to lock again.

The heated toffee was his. Zim held Dib's gaze as he brushed their mouths together, growling into the pink lips. He was the one who lit them on fire, like twin supernovas… he poked and prodded and molded that fire for so many years, feeding it kindle, breathing life into his hatred, his passion. It was Zim's through and through, and despite all the confusion the boy caused him… he was addicted to Dib's obsession.

Too addicted to stop.

He plunged his tongue into Dib's mouth, just as he buried himself into the boy's tight heat.

Dib's amber eyes flicked up to meet the Irken's smoldering red gaze. His hands had roamed over Zim's shoulders, cradling his head, the tips of his digits brushing along the base of antennae just as Zim's lips met his.

He moaned wantonly into the alien's mouth, matching Zim's intensity – the moment broken only by the sharp feeling of the alien plunging inside of him; Dib gasped against the Irken's mouth only to be rewarded with that segmented tongue distracting the pain away.

His fingers latched onto Zim's antennae as he rolled his hips upward, meeting the jerky thrusts of the invader as they fought to find a proper rhythm.

Zim could feel Dib's gasp, and he didn't give the human room to inhale, continuing the dance of their tongues and pointedly sliding himself in and out of Dib. He'd stolen Dib's breath and that was his—the human gasped because he made him, he forced it of him and he would have it. All of it belonged to Zim.

He crushed his hips against the other's and the answering upward thrust made his head spin, but instinct had taken hold and was driving them up, and up, and up…!

Zim grunted with the effort, but it was too overwhelming to cease. The hand that had been pleasuring Dib crawled up the arched torso beneath him, sliding over the goose bumps and sweat drops and finding purchase to the solid anchor that was the back of Dib's neck, tangling in damp, tangled hair follicles.

"Aah…!" Zim panted into the cool air and realized their lips must have separated. His heavy-lidded eyes swam out of focus until they steadied on the face of Dib in front of him. "Y-You.…" They were moving in synch now. Zim shuddered, unable to speak, too consumed with the feeling of Dib around him. His hands uselessly stroked and kneaded into the skin beneath his fingers.

Need. He needed Dib, all of him. This was not want, this was not a whim but a NEED and he needed him like air and snacks and a PAK. He needed him and he could not think otherwise, and it hurt to need something so much. It hurt but it felt so good, it felt so….

Zim hunched a little more over Dib, struggling with the exertion of keeping up his thrusts. He stabbed in harder, faster, not wanting to lose the momentum of pleasure and pressure building between them, driving them to the edge.

Dib's chest heaved with each panting breath, his golden eyes fogged with pleasure as Zim continued to thrust into him; forcing him to slide back and forth noisily against the tiles. He kept Zim's gaze, basking in the alien's attention, arching into Zim's needy touches as he savored the little noises the Irken made.

His heart thudded hard against his ribs at the look of sheer want in Zim's eyes, feeling so important, needed, under those bright red eyes. In these moments Dib didn't have doubts, or fears, or any other silly apprehensions – he felt powerful in the knowledge that Zim could lose himself so easily just because of him.

Thoughts ceased when he felt Zim's claws fist in his hair, forcing his head back, a breathy groan emitting as his eyes fluttered shut. He attempted to meet the Irken's deliberate movements; successful in his actions until the alien had drove himself deeper, the angle forcing Zim to brush against that wonderful bundle of nerves inside him.

Dib jerked, a keening sound spilling past his lips, "Ziimm~!" His fingers held tight on the Irken's feelers, his body squirming beneath Zim; caught between wanting to move away from the intense feeling, and wanting to get more of it.

Zim stared at Dib as he thrashed under him, mesmerized by the sight of it. Dib moaned his name and that was almost too much for the small invader. He dug his claws into the boy, holding onto him as he rode out the desperate spasms of his body.

"Nnnah…." He watched Dib, trying to hold the other's gaze, but the effort of keeping his head up was more than he could produce. With reluctance Zim bowed his head, resting his forehead on Dib's chest as he mindlessly continued to thrust. The weak display would have pissed him off had he not been so close to the paralyzing grip of climax, and all he could think of was how he couldn't see Dib's eyes like this.

So close. So close. His nerves were firing; his PAK was frazzled with messages and signals. He jerked frantically as the pressure kept building, threatening to explode, and a soundless whimper embedded itself in his throat as he helplessly sped towards oblivion, holding on and claiming all of the human… except his gaze.

"D-Di…." He struggled to lift his head. He wanted that, more than the pleasure, more than the battered body he marked as his own. He'd looked away from the human too many times to not have it now.

Dib tried his best to meet the frantic thrusts of the Irken but it was becoming too much; each time Zim stabbed into his prostate Dib cried out, seeing stars and desperately seeking more of that intoxicating sensation.

He whimpered, panted, and groaned as the alien continued; unable to form proper words or thought as passion consumed him like wild fire. His nails clawed at the back of Zim's neck before he gripped his head, thumbs pushed under his jaw as his body bowed against the invader.

Dib kept his legs firmly around Zim's hips, unable to match Zim's movements as his end loomed upon him; his muscles pulling tight in anticipation as the Irken kept rutting against him.

He forced Zim's head up, his amber eyes opening just enough to survey the expression of the alien; staring heatedly into his crimson eyes. Pleasure tainted his gaze, needy whimpers tumbling past his lips as he tilted his head up; brushing his lips against Zim's though never sealing for a kiss.


Dib's body shuddered as his orgasm crashed upon him, his seed shooting out against Zim's belly. Lips and teeth nipped at Zim's mouth mindlessly as he rode on the tingling waves of completion; groaning the Irken's name between breathy gasps.

Zim's antennae twitched fervently, hearing those utterances of his name. He hadn't resisted when Dib's fingers maneuvered his head and persuaded his gaze upward, too caught up in his efforts to concentrate beyond breathing. Colors blurred and he could see Dib's neck (slathered in red marks and bruises, delicious trophies), and then his lips (swollen, parted, spilling sounds of exertion and desire), and then further up until he met the gold-brown of Dib's irises.


The feral word echoed in Zim's jumbled thoughts, laced in danger, but also… a hopeless plea. He wanted it to be true.

Dib's lips made contact with his and Zim shuddered, shoving himself into Dib with all that he had. There should have been no doubt, the boy had been his from the moment he'd vowed for his death, but yet he wanted… wanted something… else.

'… h-he's mine….'

He wanted that to mean something… more.

"H-Haa…." He could feel Dib tighten around him, the human's form going rigid and his teeth raking along the alien's lower lip. Another thrust was barely necessary before Zim was careening down the same path—he twitched as physical bliss wracked his every nerve and fiber, filling his mind with endless, blinding white until there was nothing left, nothing except Dib gasping his name beneath him, and the sound of his own pounding heartbeat in his feelers. Vaguely he sensed Dib releasing warmth onto his torso, just as he moaned helplessly and expelled himself as well, riding out the last sparks of his senseless oblivion….

Something was still brushing against his open mouth, and Zim's vision cleared, coming out of his trance. Dib still nipped at his lips, as if trying to drag Zim's closer but unable. The thought, in the Irken's still recovering state, was oddly amusing, even if it was only his discernment of that action. Silly human.

The ends of Zim's lips turned upward, barely so, and he let himself fall forward to capture the human's persistent mouth. His whole body sank against Dib, an odd feeling clutching at his spooch. He should be getting up, but he did not—he should pull out of the human, he should push the boy away, he should sneer and make some remark… but he did not.

Zim ran his hands along Dib, tracing his claws along the sweaty skin, distracted by the burning sensation of where alien flesh met human. An odd clinking sound slithered into the air around them, and it was a moment or two later before the source of the noise made themselves known around Dib when PAK wires glided over the two entwined bodies.

They moved slowly, and unlike their last involvement, they did not restrain Dib's limbs in any way… just curling and sliding about, wrapping around parts of the teen and massaging the flesh they found. The action was almost like a hug… but for Zim, he clung onto Dib as if the boy could bolt at any second. It was a controlling sort of tender, if tender could even be considered a proper description… which it could, since it lacked the Irken's expected violence.

He pulled away from the kiss to breathe, and he dropped sideways a bit, pulling out of Dib situating his head to lie just under the human's chin. He panted a little against the other's neck, feeling the warmth of his exhales caress along Dib's throat. "I… I hate you." He stared at nothing in particular, not even half paying attention to what he was saying. "Zim hates you so much, you filthy dirt-child… you make Zim's spooch hurt, you make Zim…," he trailed off, frowning, but not relenting in his grip on the teen. The PAK limbs held on a little tighter, but not enough to cause pain. "Zim does not want hurt," he added quietly into Dib's chest.

Dib's body was spent but he felt completely satisfied; shuddering at the burn of Irken fluids inside him as Zim finished a few moments after him. His hands weakly clung to the Invader, too fatigued to do much more than that as his little nibbling kisses were engulfed by Zim's dominating mouth.

He had been vaguely aware of the metal noise as their kiss continued, but he was too out of sorts to really discern what it was until he felt the smooth cold appendages wrapping around his body and pulling him firm against the Irken. His arms wrapped in turn around Zim's shoulders, holding himself steady as the alien drew away from the kiss, pulling out in the same movement and causing Dib to hiss in displeasure.

Now that all the endorphins were spent he began to feel the pain in his muscles, from his bruises and bites, and especially the hurting of his back which had been sliding painfully against the floor for quite some time.

The satisfaction wore off, just a little, as he nuzzled into Zim's head; nibbling affectionately at the base of a feeler as those Pak limbs tugged him closer. He felt oddly at ease snaked up in those deadly metal limbs; a humming sigh escaping his lips as he let his eyes drift shut.

He was all too prepared to fall asleep right on the floor had Zim not spoke, perking up to the hesitant voice of the Invader. "You make me hurt too." Dib offered, his tone soft as his fingers drew comforting motions along Zim's back and shoulders, "But, it's not bad," He murmured, his words becoming more drawn out, almost slurred as he fought to keep himself awake, "Not all bad."

"Mmm…" Dib hummed dreamily, losing sight of what he wanted to say; perhaps if he was a bit more cognitive he would have offered something insightful, or maybe mulled what Zim had said over a bit more. But, he wasn't up to his usual speed and he couldn't shake the sated feeling, unable to bring himself down into a sour moment – still gripping desperately to the remnants of bliss Zim had made him experience, "I used to hate you…" He said gently, elaborating no further than that as his body finally gave in, becoming limp under the Irken's weight.

Zim felt the sudden lack of tension in the boy's form and frowned. He didn't even have to lift his gaze to know the human had lost consciousness, and his brow furrowed in discontent.

"Filth-worm," he groused. "Zim was speaking. Stop going into sleep mode after every mating, Irk damn it." Were all humans this worn out after partaking in reproductive rituals?

Nothing aside from Dib's steady breathing answered him, not that Zim had been expecting a reply to begin with. A cold shudder laced his spine as the heat from their previous activities dissipated, leaving the chill from the floor to spread across sweat-damp skin like fire on gasoline. Even lying on top of Dib, Zim could feel the pricking discomfort of the icy surface they were on, nipping at his toes.

Curse the damn PAK malfunction. Couldn't even maintain his own body heat.

Unconsciously he wormed closer into Dib's prone form, the PAK limbs securing the boy to him as if Dib somehow gave off the desire to escape. It wasn't a conscious gesture, the closeness, and Zim wasn't even thinking of it as he stared at the empty bed barely a foot from where they were on the floor. He shouldn't even be there, his weakness reminded him. This was all wrong. He should get up. But he didn't.

"… I still hate you," he said into Dib's chest. The human could not hear him, and, in a rare moment, Zim actually preferred his words to go unnoticed. "For what do… to me." He traced lazy circles along the boy's collar bone, watching as his claw indented the supple, yielding layer of skin and fat, never breaking it—only sinking. "And you failed to tell Zim how to fix it. Conniving dirt-child."

He knew he wasn't going to get up. There were so many other things he should have been doing at that moment: finding the Dwicky-beast, for one, and making sure he understood what happens when one touches the property of ZIM. A dull rage licked at his innards like cool flames with the thought, but doing so would mean leaving Dib alone in the room. It would mean separation, and he should be doing that anyway, shouldn't he?

Half-lidded crimson studied the expanse of flesh underneath him, thoughtful. Reluctant. There was nothing for him to do there, he did not need to rest and the position was hardly very comfortable to begin with. But still he remained, despite the gnawing sensation in his spooch.

But Dib could not get up easily if he was lying atop him. Yes—yes, that was the reason he stayed, indeed it was. Think of how cold and unforgiving the floor must feel on his back, rubbed raw from the friction of Zim thrusting his body back and forth. Surely that was punishment for not listening to Zim in the first place and running off.

Yes, oh what chilly, painful punishment. That would teach him. Yes, of course.

He was just making sure he stayed on the floor.

The thought distracted Zim, and he curled in closer. His antennae stayed flat against the back of his head, even though a part of him was tempted to brush them against the underside of Dib's jaw. …it had been a while since he'd had this kind of contact. He wanted to say he didn't miss it. He wanted to.

He wanted an awful lot of things.

His eyes drifted up to where neck met shoulder, finding a dark, entrancing massacre where a bruise had once been. Teeth marks had torn apart the skin, with dried blood caked against the wounds in rust-colored ribbons and mounds. The flesh beneath was a messy blotch of purple, green-yellow and blue-black, as raven as the follicles on Dib's head, and the contrast was so great to his skin that Zim likened it to a black hole, a bottomless abyss. It was large and unforgiving and stuck out with far more bravado than any mark Dwicky could ever make.

Zim looked at it, and a smile twitched on his lips—a cold, humorless smile. It pleased him just about as much as it pained him, and an unwanted flutter of warmth made itself known in his chest. He wanted to rip out the flutter with his bare hands, and to stop feeling this pain.

Painful, sickening… concern. Worry. Softness in his spooch. Things Dib made him feel, and they were his fault.

Yet all he did was close his eyes, and he did not leave. Also Dib's fault.

And he hated him even more because of it.


This looks like an update, yes? Ffff.

Sorry for being so out of touch with fanfiction lately, but I'm trying to dive back into updating old stuff and starting new stuff. I have a few more chapters in storage for this RP, but once they are gone I believe that will be all for a while.

But, until then, the story won't be on Hiatus just yet.

Thanks for reading, as always. We love the readers and reviewers~